


Checkmate

by Knightfalling_for_you



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Chess, Gen, Jesse is a genius, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightfalling_for_you/pseuds/Knightfalling_for_you
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse Wells plays a friendly game of chess with her dad. But as the game goes on, she begins to wonder if that's really who she's up against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lonelywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelywalker/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ever since Jesse was a kid, her father made sure she was constantly observing details. She’d watch people on the train, silently scanning them for clues and creating theories. After a while, she’d just see telltale signs and her brain would know immediately what was going on. Her teachers chided her for jumping to conclusions, her friends called her psychic, and her professors called her a prodigy. But Jesse has always thought of herself as simply a scientist, like her father. That’s who Jesse is: she sees patterns and explains them. It’s barely even a conscious process anymore.

So when her dad walks into the small bedroom in STAR Labs they’ve come to live in, Jesse’s analyzing him the second he comes into sight. His hair is actually combed back for once, that’s a change. She wonders briefly if he finally found somewhere to take a shower.

His hair’s not the only thing different. He’s wearing his glasses, which is a bit odd. Usually, her dad only wears glasses when he’s focusing on a project or going to an important function. He doesn’t even need them, really—Jesse’s 99.9% sure he just wears them to make himself feel (and look) smarter. There’s also a pair of sneakers on his feet in place of his usual combat-ready boots, which strikes her as odd.

The thing that sticks out most is the expression on his face. His mouth is quirked back like he’s ready to laugh or smile at any time, a change from his usual—what did Cisco call it?—“Resting Bitch Face.” His eyes are different. It’s hard to explain, but there’s something in them that Jesse doesn’t recognize. It’s not a sparkle, but a sort of a gleam.

All of these little details add up to something, but she can’t figure out what it is yet. For once, she can’t come up with an instant hypothesis. All she knows is that whatever is going on with her dad, he seems to be in a good mood. That’s unusual—he hasn’t been in a good mood since the day Zoom showed up.

“Hey, Dad,” Jesse says, setting down the copy of _Atlas Shrugged_ Caitlin loaned her. “Any luck on re-opening the breaches?”

“Not yet,” he says with a shake of his head and a surprising lack of frustration. He just says it casually, like it’s no big deal. That’s atypical. Most daughters wouldn’t be cautious when their dad’s in a good mood, but most daughters don’t have Harrison Wells for a father. When her dad comes up against a problem he can’t solve, he doesn’t take a break. He studies it over and over, until it’s 3 am in the morning and you have to drag him out of STAR Labs because for God’s sake, he’s got a presentation the next day. “But I have full confidence we can figure it out, given enough time and effort.”

 _An odd way of putting it,_ Jesse thinks. _It’s not like Dad to say something so . . . motivational._ There’s something going on here that she doesn’t understand yet, but she’s going to figure it out. She needs two things: a stimulant for her brain and an excuse to keep observing her dad until she figures out what’s off about him.

“Want to play a game of chess?” she asks, changing the subject. “We haven’t done that in a while. Maybe this time you’ll actually beat me.”

“Game on, Jesse,” he says, with a grin and an odd twist of his head that she takes to be a nod. Jesse grabs a chessboard she found lying around the lab and sets it on a nearby table, pulling up two chairs. She takes her seat, and her dad takes his.

“Any preference on color?” she asks, setting up the pieces.

“I’ll take black,” he says. Yet another oddity—her dad always chooses white so he can play first. Maybe he’s just trying a new strategy this time.

Jesse moves her first pawn forward, and the game begins. She makes small talk as they make their moves, trying to distract her dad while she watches him carefully. They talk about a lot of things—metahumans, the multiverse, the virtues of Big Belly Burger—but Jesse isn’t really listening. She’s just looking for something to latch onto; something that will make it all fit.

There are more irregularities in his speech—he calls Caitlin and Cisco by their first names when talking about them, instead of saying “Snow” and “Ramon”. And every sentence is smooth, without a hint of breaking or disjoint, like he’s planning out his words—but if he is, he’s keeping up with the conversation very quickly. His voice is a little less throaty than usual; his assistants on Earth-2 used to say behind his back that he sounded like he smoked three packs a day.

The pieces beside each of them rack up quickly, little piles of black and white fallen pawns, bishops, and knights. To Jesse’s surprise, her dad is actually keeping up with her this time—maybe even winning. She hasn’t lost a game of chess to him since she was five (even when she was that age, he **never** lost on purpose). Common sense says maybe she’s been slipping since her bout as Zoom’s prisoner, but Jesse doubts it. She almost feels like her dad knows every move she’s going to make—as if he’s projecting all the possibilities in his head like a supercomputer.

The longer they play, the more uneasy she gets—which is weird. If she doesn’t understand something right away, Jesse usually sees it as a challenge, and she loves a good challenge. But there’s something about the man sitting across from her that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“There’s still time to call it quits,” her dad gloats, as he takes her queen. “There’s no shame in admitting you still have a few things left to learn.”

“You wish,” she mutters. Like hell she’s going to give up now. As her hand hovers over the board, she accidentally knocks one of the black pieces she took from him. She reaches down to grab it, and that’s when everything clicks into place.

One second, she’s reaching down for the fallen bishop, and the next she’s staring at a glaring red light coming from her bag next to the table. She recognizes it immediately—it’s the metahuman detector app on her father’s watch. She stares for a second at the harsh gleam, but it’s unmistakable.

And there’s a second alert on the watch’s face: _Speedster sensed_. And then it all comes flooding into her mind: the stories about the man who impersonated her father’s doppleganger, the Reverse-Flash.

She picks up the bishop quickly, trying to act like nothing’s happened—like she hasn’t just realized she’s seated across from some twisted metahuman imposter.

“Everything alright, Jess?” not-Dad asks, with a look of concern. Jesse nods, her heartbeat racing.

“Just trying to think out my next move.” _Ha, understatement of the century._ “Give me a minute or two.”

As she pretends to look at the chessboard, she steals a glance at the smug bastard seated across from her. You’d think after Zoom, nothing could scare Jesse, but you’d be wrong. Zoom is all terror and fury. But this speedster, this _Reverse-Flash_ , is the exact opposite. He’s calm and collected . . . and also eerily in-control.

So how do you take down someone like that? Someone fast enough to rival the Flash? Someone smart enough to be in the same league with her? Someone who’s always prepared, even if his plans take fifteen years to come through?

If Jesse tries to make a run for it, she’ll be outmatched (and she doesn’t have any backup, because Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry are out having drinks—damn it, if she was a few years older, she’d be with them and not in this mess). If she tries to shoot the Reverse-Flash, he’ll grab the gun from her before she’s had a chance to take off the safety. And if she openly confronts him, she’ll give away her only advantage: the element of surprise.

No, there’s only one option, desperate though it may be: set a trap. Jesse knows the perfect bait, but she’s going to need all the luck she can get. And it wouldn’t hurt to have her adversary feeling a little overconfident.

She moves her king forward and even before not-Dad lets out a fearsome grin, she knows the outcome of the chess match.

“Checkmate,” he gloats, picking up the white king. “Up for a rematch? You lasted longer than Barry.”

“Maybe later,” Jesse says. “I think I’m going to go see if Caitlin’s computer is done running the calculations yet.” _Take the bait, you asshole, take_ it.

“The calculations on what?” he asks casually.

“She’s trying to figure out how to make Velocity-9 last longer. She thinks it could still come in handy if and when Barry faces Zoom again. He’s going to need all the speed he can get.”

“Maybe I can help,” not-Dad says, standing up. “Mind if I join?”

“The more the merrier.”

The walk to the cortex is only a minute, tops, but it feels like a lot longer. This plan had better work, because if it doesn’t Jesse is either going to end up dead or the prisoner of an evil speedster AGAIN. Neither of those options are very appealing.

“Hmm,” she mutters, looking at the program on the computer screen. “It’s still running.”

“I’d be a little more patient. It’s only been about fifteen minutes,” not-Dad says, leaning over her shoulder to look at the screen. It’s all Jesse can do not to turn around and punch him in the face. He’s so close and it would be so easy, but it’s not part of the plan. “Where’s Velocity 9 1.0? I’d like to take another look at it.”

Jesse gets up and moves to a nearby worktable, her hands searching through a load of Cisco’s inventions and experiments. From the back, all he should be able to see is her right hand grabbing a syringe. That’s all he needs to see. He doesn’t need to see her left hand stuffing something else into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Here you go,” she says, handing him the syringe. She tries to ignore the lurch in her stomach and the metal lump in her pocket.

“Fascinating,” he says, holding it at eye level. “But you grabbed the wrong syringe.”

“I—I did?” _Crap._

“Yes. See, if you look closely, you can see clouds of nanite particles—the invention of Mr. Palmer, I believe. This is the speed-dampening serum, not the Velocity 9.”

“Right.”

“You know, it strikes me as odd that you would overlook such an obvious difference, especially given the inverse effects of the compounds. A mistake like that could put Barry in a lot of trouble.”

“I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.” _He couldn’t have just shot himself up with the serum. No, it’s never that easy._

“I guess not. So, where is the Velocity 9?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if we wait, the others can help us find it.”

The not-Dad lets out a harsh laugh. “You know, you’re remarkably clever, and I don’t throw that term around lightly.”

“Thanks . . . _Dad_.” Game’s up.

“So if you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me where the Velocity-9 is? For a genius like you, it shouldn’t be so hard to find.”

“If you’re so fast,” she blurts, “why do you even need it? I’ve heard the stories.”

He claps slowly, moving towards her, but he doesn’t run. Not yet. In some ways, this is a lot worse than facing Zoom.

“My speed’s intermittent. I need an extra boost to get me going. I’d love some tachyons, but I think Mercury Labs is out of those, so Velocity will have to do, even if it’s still only temporary. So tell me, _Jesse Quick_ , where. Is. It?” The last three words, while still calm, are laced with venom.

“You know, you’re a rotten actor,” she spits out. “I don’t know how you fooled all those people for fifteen years.”

“Whereas you were only fooled for about fifteen minutes,” he chuckles. “You know, you give me that Velocity, and I might just keep you around. It’d be a waste to kill someone with so much intellect, so much potential. Your plan to switch the serums was some quick-thinking, even if it was a bit obvious.”

“Counter-offer,” Jesse snaps, pulling a gun she’d grabbed from Cisco’s table out of her hoodie pocket. “You tell me what the hell you did with my father, and I let _you_ live.”

“I thought you were smarter than that,” he says, his voice turning deep. It’s not the same throaty cackle Zoom has, but it’s still unearthly. He snatches the gun from her with ease, chucks it across the room, and grabs her by the throat with one hand, holding her up. “You know I don’t need you to find the serum. I can search this whole building in the time it takes for you to tie your shoes. I was giving you a chance.”

“Gee, that’s so—“ Jesse coughs, straining to get free, but she can’t pull herself out of his grip “—generous.”

“I’ll even give you one more chance,” the Reverse-Flash says, his eyes crackling and simmering with red lightning. “Tell me where the Velocity-9 is, Miss Wells. This is your final warning.” He lifts up his free hand and it begins to vibrate. Jesse knows what comes next, she’s heard of Zoom doing it to his victims too. That’s why she has to be quick enough.

With all the strength she’s got left, Jesse reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small blue and silver device. She slams it onto the Reverse-Flash’s chest before he knows what’s happening. His hand stops vibrating and he groans in pain as lightning crackles over the device.

“What the hell have you done?” he growls.

“Stolen your speed,” she says with a smirk. She kicks him in the stomach and he tumbles to the ground, letting her go in the process. “Or at least, a percentage of it. If you were the Flash, you’d still be on your feet. But you’re not the Flash, and from what you told me about your powers, I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes you some time to recover.

“So . . .” She strides quickly across the room and grabs her gun, pointing it at the fallen speedster, “I’d call that a checkmate.”


End file.
